The Bitter Taste of What Might Have Been
by Wasanbon
Summary: Sometimes, on the rare days when Okita is generous enough not to disturb his sleep with bombs on his bed or performing rituals right in front of his door, Hijikata dreams of fireflies, a whole jar of mayonnaise and two spicy senbei, and a life he would've led had he been foolish enough to tell her how he really feels. Hijikata/Mitsuba


**Disclaimer: Gintama doesn't belong to me.**

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**The Bitter Taste of What Might Have Been**

_He remembers the radiance of her smile,_

_the sound of her laugh,_

_just as if she was sitting right next to him._

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Sometimes, on the rare days when Okita is generous enough not to disturb his sleep with bombs on his bed or performing rituals right in front of his door, Hijikata dreams of fireflies, a whole jar of mayonnaise, and a life he would've led had he been foolish enough to tell her how he really feels.

He dreams of fireflies – those pests that littered on the skies of Bushuu, bringing forth lights and destruction on their wake. Hijikata hated them. They would always zip this way and that, and while it lit his way back to the Kondo's dojo, it damn well obscured his vision with the way they're flying too close to his face. Sometimes, those creatures would decide to make his hair, a ponytailed mess that probably reminded them of tall grasses, their home. And it would take Hijikata quite a while to drive them away by ruffling his hair and making it even more untamed than ever.

To say that Hijikata had a difficult time dealing with the pests would be an understatement. Fireflies have wings and little bodies and putting a sword through their heads is harder than hitting a bull's eye with a bow and arrow, although the sight of a young man swatting away the fireflies by swinging his sword like a mad man would, no doubt, make quite an interesting spectacle.

Hijikata thanked all the deities he knew that there were no fireflies in Edo.

Next, Hijikata dreams of a whole jar of mayonnaise and spicy senbei. It was unfortunate that the mayo paradise dream never visited him again, although he suspects it's because of the slap he took from reality when he tried pursuing his dream of visiting that paradise that one time, he still couldn't forget the disappointment felt with every fiber on his body when the waterfalls of mayonnaise and a bed of roses that tasted like mayonnaise were mere lies. He never felt more like a fool that day – what was he thinking? Chasing after a dream so surreal it was too good be true. He had been so naïve, thinking that such a paradise existed beyond the tv advertisements and the roguish streets of Edo.

It's like he never learned anything in the past at all.

But even in his dreams, the spicy senbei remained as spicy and_ bitter_ as he first tasted them. It was funny because it's not even supposed to taste bitter yet it was the only sense of taste that registered in his brain, perhaps it was because of the equally bitter tears and repressed sobs that accompanied the sound of the loud crunch whenever he takes a bite on the damn thing.

It was funny because it's not even supposed to be _that_ spicy yet where else could he have gotten the hot and painful sting in his heart as he continued to stuff the senbei into his mouth just so he could claim that it was the senbei who brought these feelings in his black heart and the tears in his eyes.

It was the senbei's fault, really. Spicy food keeps your blood running and it's probably why he feels as if his heart gained a couple of pounds.

Finally, when the disturbing dreams of fireflies, mayonnaise, and spicy senbei comes to an end, Hijikata finds himself staring at the familiar scenery of Bushuu from inside a room. Whether he was sitting of laying down on a futon did not come up on his mind but the only thing he could see was the nostalgic sight of the countryside and the woman sitting in front of the open shoji screens. Her back was facing him but he knew all too well who she is – and then suddenly, he wished he just could go back to fields of fireflies that buzzed around his person because waking up will be a lot more easier to do when he's suffering from pestilence instead of this impossible dream that, somewhere deep deep down the deepest oblivion of his heart, he wished he could just stay in forever.

The scene abruptly changed and he's somehow sitting next to her with one of her spicy senbei in one hand and a bottle of mayonnaise in the other. He is looking at her smiling face, a gentle sight and a twinkle in her eyes that someone like him did not deserve. In her hands is a spicy senbei and she's looking at him as if urging him to eat the snack he holds with his undeserving hand.

When Hijikata takes a bite and forcibly pushes the spicy thing down his throat despite the smoke coming out of his nose and ears, he heard her giggle (it sounded so real he was amazed he could still remember the way she laughs even if it had been years since last heard of it coming directly from her lips), and his face felt hot all of the sudden. He blamed it on the senbei, it's always the senbei.

He diverts his gaze away from her, to hide the scarlet tint that spread across his cheeks and tried to regain his cold and distant composure but she knows this and she sees right through him. It's annoying, even more annoying than the fireflies flying around the courtyard and illuminating the night with a soft golden glow.

For him, the view doesn't compare to the look of happiness painted on Mitsuba's face as she admired the spectacle before her.

Hijikata allowed himself to enjoy the beautiful sight of the floating lights, to experience this fleeting moment of peace and the life he would've led if there was no shinsengumi, no Okita Sougo to purposely take away his sister from his company, and no Hijikata Toushiro who was bastard child and a thorny demon with a tainted sword from the blood of the enemies he struck in order to survive. In his dreams there was only Okita Mitsuba and Hijikata Toushiro sharing a meal of spicy senbei and mayonnaise, everything else is beyond the two of them.

Whenever he dreams about her it's always so vivid it was as if it's actually real. He wishes for it to be real but that is even more impossible than the mayonnaise paradise that the tv advertisement promised him. And when he wakes up, reality delivers another slap to his face and he has to deal with the bomb that somehow placed itself beside his pillow and the explosion that followed, another plain and repetitive day of patrols around the city and maybe catch a criminal or two, and the bitter taste left by the spicy senbei he ate on the day of her death on his tongue.

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"You were wrong to love her," a voice whispered.

.

.

"You were _wrong_ to leave her," A different voice insisted.

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**A/N: The last quote by George RR Martin. When I read that line I immediately thought of this pairing so there. Here's a little HijiMitsu. I wanna write a fluffy story about them but I don't know how pls someone give me a prompt.**

**Reviews are much appreciated.**


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